


The Waiting Room

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-23
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The clock was closing in on eleven p.m. and the waiting room was stuffy.  There was people everywhere still waiting for a word from the guys wearing green scrubs.  Pink dresses were wrinkled from sitting on plastic chairs, hands clenched together tightly were holding onto black jackets, eyes closed, and no one talking.  You could hear a pin drop. </i><br/>(SPOILERS for 3x14 - On My Way)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waiting Room

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam. _Just because_.

Sam needed to move. He jiggled his legs and jangled the change in his pocket until Mike elbowed him. He leaned back and then forward again. Rolling his shoulders, he felt his neck pop and Santana gave him a _look_.

The clock was closing in on eleven p.m. and the waiting room was stuffy. There was people everywhere still waiting for a word from the guys wearing green scrubs. Pink dresses were wrinkled from sitting on plastic chairs, hands clenched together tightly were holding onto black jackets, eyes closed, and no one talking. You could hear a pin drop.

The silence was too much.

He needed to get out of this room.

Leaning forward, he braced his hands on his knees and stood.

“Coffee,” he said to no one in particular and began walking down the hallway. The crappy old linoleum with grey flecks led his way to the cafeteria.

He yanked on his tie and loosened the knot that Kurt had tied earlier in the day.

One by one, they’d lined up and been inspected. Knots and ties had always been confusing, so, Sam had waited patiently until Kurt stood in front of him.

“Seriously, Sam Evans, how old are you?”

“Old enough to know you’re better at this than I am.”

Kurt had laughed and tied the tie.

_They’d laughed. They’d all laughed._

By habit, he filled a cup and added two sugars. Paying the lady with the lopsided name tag that read ‘Stella’, he sat down at a long table. Taking a drink, the burn of hot coffee and something that had been stuck there since 5:15 that afternoon, slid down into his stomach.

He couldn’t lose it in the middle of the cafeteria. He could not. He wouldn’t.

The tears stung as he thought of Quinn. She wasn’t his girlfriend, hadn’t been for a long time. But she was his friend. Is his friend, his mind corrected loudly. And he was scared.

Earlier, he’d thumbed through the pictures in his phone. She’d been in so many of them. She was beautiful, of course. But few people saw past that with her. They saw the red, white and black Cheerios uniform that hugged her body just right in the one where she was tipping up to kiss Puck’s cheek. They saw the smile of an angel who had fallen and rose back up in a blue dress on prom night as she stood by herself in front of white balloons and streamers. When he looked at those pictures, he saw a scared little girl who was playing dress up in her mom’s high heels that never fit quite right.

Sam put his head down on his arms. He could feel the button from where he’d rolled up his sleeves earlier poking into his forehead. The cash register spit out a receipt nearby and he prayed silently that God help her out of this. In the middle of a hospital that probably had a chapel if he wanted to go looking for it, he sat on a chair and prayed for Quinn. He might not love her like that anymore, but that didn’t matter, did it? She’d gone off the deep end a bit and he sure was sorry he wasn’t there to help then, but he would now. He would from now on. He’d help if God could do this one little thing and make her okay. God had to listen. He just _had_ to.

He heard the feet of the chair next to him scrape by as someone pulled it out.

“Sam.”

Then another and another and another chair.

_Fuck._

This wasn’t about him. He just needed a minute to get it together in his head so he could go back in there and face everyone, for better or worse. He snorted because Finn and Rachel were supposed to be getting hitched today and that got shot in the ass. _For better or worse, right._

“Sam.”

_Oh hell._

He looked up. Mercedes was right across from him and all he could see were the tears in her eyes. And then she gave this smile and he _knew_.

“She’s okay. She’s gonna be okay.”

He felt like shouting and puking all at the same time.

Then, she reached her hand across the table and turned it palm up.

“Take it.”

Her mascara was smudged and her lipstick was hours gone but even with grief and weariness in her eyes, she was still the best thing in his world. And holding her hand, he might be able to walk through this okay.

He reached out and put his hand in hers. She squeezed tight.

And then Puck put his hand on theirs.

And Mike.

And Blaine.

And Santana.

And Tina.

And Rory.

“I can’t reach,” Artie said. Ducking his head and laughing, Sam scooted over to leave room for Artie.

“Get over here.”

Artie wheeled forward in his chair and put his hand on top.

He couldn’t remember who broke the moment or if it was because Finn came in and said maybe they should go home and get some shuteye, but he knew that holding her hand under that pile of people was something he’d never forget, ever.

One by one, they took their hands away. Mercedes squeezed his hand again and began to pull back. He clutched, he couldn’t help it.

“I’m just walking around the table, Sam,” she said, softly.

“Okay, okay,” he replied, releasing her hand.

“Let’s get you home.”

She let him hold the door open as they walked out of the hospital.

And Sam wondered if God had answered more than one of his prayers that night.


End file.
